


A smile for you

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy (Cartoon)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Hinted Wedge/Hot Shot, New year nerves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25909108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: It's year two at the Academy; a chance for the recruits to finally learn more of the advanced techniques of the trade! Except, it seems Hot Shot's one-on-one mentorship has left him feeling a bit... shafted. Wedge has an idea to cheer up his gloomy friend- If he can actually come up with a plan.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	A smile for you

**C.M.D: I'm enjoying the new season of RBA; thankfully it's been uploaded to Netflix recently too. Now I just have to wait for the remaining episodes to air and then be uploaded...**

**xX A Smile For You Xx**

Year two at the Rescue Bot Academy was more than Wedge could have ever hoped for! New teachers, new classrooms, new simulations, and even dedicated -personal- mentors! He woke each morning already buzzing with excitement, eager to learn new skills and especially spend any available moment with his hero, Bumblebee. It was like a Primus-given gift, being in this modest school on Earth, and the orange youngling was hardwired into the experience.

Which is why it probably took him a few weeks to realize that out of the five of them, Hot Shot was the only one looking miserable.

Hearing that the quadruple-changer barely even saw Heatwave most orns was a jolt to the circuits.

Hoist, Whirl, Medix and himself... They each had, at minimum, half of their schedule slotted for one-on-one lessons with their mentors. The veteran Rescuers were going to help advance each of the recruits' own individual skills to their full potential for the whole of the second term, and so far, that seemed to be working out well for everyone. Granted, it probably helped that most of them had been assigned to the 'bot of their dreams (except Hoist, but he was actually excelling despite his fears), yet Hot Shot hadn't gotten his first-choice of mentor.

That clearly upset the red youngling a bit.

And now those negative feelings were exacerbated as Heatwave continued to shunt his pupil to the side.

They'd all tried to be positive and cheer up their teammate verbally, promising that this would pass, but Heatwave was still not investing nearly as much personal time into Hot Shot's training as the other mentors were, and Hot Shot was becoming disheartened more and more, receiving only chores as substitute.

Wedge remembered the last time the quadruple-changer had sunk that low... Scorch, with his manipulative ways, had managed to steal Hot Shot away from them, convincing him to abandon the recruits and the Academy. Though it had only been a temporary leave, the red youngling had still left them all, and the sting of that betrayal hovered in the back of the front-loader's processor as he slipped into recharge some nights.

He feared, watching his friend from afar, that Hot Shot might decide to quit the team again if things didn't improve... And this time, it would be of the other Autobot's own volition, and therefore, unlikely to result in Hot Shot coming back. The thought of the quadruple-changer leaving his life for good caused Wedge's spark to fluctuate sickeningly and he set to work immediately, brainstorming how he might cheer up the ex-cube player indefinitely.

**xxx**

"-are you listening?"

"Huh? What?" Wedge snapped his helm up, shuttering his optics stupidly. It took nearly a klik before he realized he was staring into Bumblebee's amused face; flushing in embarrassment, the orange youngling quickly shoved his blueprint plans into his desk, engine hiccuping sheepishly. "I-i'm listening, I was listening!," he squeaked.

A chuckle escaped his hero, the former scout putting down his datapad and pulling a chair up to the recruit's desk. "Something else on your processor?," he asked knowingly.

Wedge glanced at Bumblebee and to the floor several times, before deciding to open his mouth again with a sigh. "I-i... I was thinking of making something. F-for a friend. But, I... I only really know how to do construction and I don't think a shelf for his bobbles is really going to cheer him up," he confessed.

"Ah," Bumblebee nodded, tapping a finger against his forearm in thought. "Someone else is feeling down, huh?"

"Yes..."

"And you want to make them feel better by giving them a gift?"

"Yes..."

"You know what they like?"

"No," Wedge grumbled, annoyed with himself. Of course he didn't know a lot about Hot Shot's likes. But he bet that Scorch did, and that made him even more frustrated. "All he does is talk about Cube and-"

The front-loader clicked his vocalizer off sharply, embarrassed that he'd almost blurted out the whole truth. Sure, he was trying to help Hot Shot, though that didn't mean he was ready to confess that to anyone. Not even Bumblebee, and Wedge would tell the scout anything he wanted to hear! There was just... too much... going on inside of his frame. The orange youngling had thought about his friend a lot since Scorch's appearance and he noted that something in their dynamic had changed... But he couldn't place what or exactly how yet. All Wedge understood was that Hot Shot deserved to be happy and currently he wasn't, thus making the construction recruit sick with worry towards the other Autobot.

"I-i just... don't know as much about him as I'd like," Wedge continued belatedly, shoulders sagging as he stared at his servos.

"That is very unfortunate," Bumblebee said after a gentle pause, nudging the youngling until he looked up at his mentor again, "But why not start with the couple things you know, to start off with. If this friend of yours likes Cube then maybe..."

The front-loader stared up at the scout for a few astroseconds, before turning his helm to the side in thought. "I... could get him more trophies? Special polish?," he contemplated. Wedge made a face. "No, that's too simple, over-done... Um, pictures? Posters? Action figures? Foam fingers? Oh! OH! A compilation vid-file of some of Cube's greatest highlights!"

"A-and, and," he continued to yell excitedly, pulling out his blueprints and scribbling his new ideas over top, "Maybe get a few autographs of his favourite League players on the pad also!"

"Those," Bumblebee beamed, taking Wedge's blueprints, "Sound like exceptional ideas indeed. A good friend into Cube would absolutely be thrilled to get a gift like that! You could wrap it up nicely, in a basket or a box too, to make it even more surprising!"

Wedge flushed at his mentor's compliments, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously before he remembered one crucial detail and his own smile tapered off. "Yeah, maybe... But in order to give those things, I'd first have to collect them. And I certainly can't do that here, on Earth," the orange youngling sighed in defeat, rising to his pedes. "Guess I'll have to figure something else out. Thank you anyhow, Professor Bumblebee, for the great class. If you'll excuse me, I gotta go clean out the compactor this orn."

And with that, the recruit dragged himself out of the classroom, missing the way that Bumblebee glanced between Wedge's listed ideas and the doorway quietly.

**xxx**

"Jeez, this... Well, this looks stupid."

Wedge sat in a quiet corner of the student lounge, staring down at a small wicker basket on the table in front of him. So far he'd placed a couple boxes of rust sticks and one, gimmicky Optimus Prime bobble-head figure into its wide bottom, but the vast amount of leftover space made a mockery of the humble gifts. Grumbling lowly, the orange youngling quickly yanked out the cheap, dashboard decoration, tossing it somewhere behind him.

Why was this so hard?!

The humans' internet stated that 'gift baskets' were a great way to make someone feel better, and were easily made by filling it with a number of tiny treats and presents... yet finding enough things to fill the basket was still a struggle for him. What was he going to do? Just dump a load of rust sticks inside and slap a bow on it?

"I bet Scorch would know exactly all the things Hot Shot would love," Wedge muttered angrily to himself, servos curling into fists at the thought of the selfish pro-star. "He'd probably get all sorts of trinkets that Hot Shot would _awe_ over and then they'd spend all orn talking about past memories and-"

"Heya Wedge! What are you up to?"

"Gah!," the front-loader yelped, nearly falling off his chair as Whirl's kindly face was thrust into his line of vision. "Whirl! I-i, uh..."

The copter caught a glance of the basket that the orange youngling was trying to slide off the table just then, her faster, slender servos snatching the mini hamper before it could be hidden. "Oooh," she cooed, turning it this way and that in her study, "Is this a present basket? I read about these online!"

"It's called a gift basket...," Wedge corrected quietly.

"But it's only filled with rust sticks," Whirl mused aloud in confusion, "And not a lot either. Who are we supposed to be cheering up?"

His engine gave an awkward little chug as Wedge quickly looked in the opposite direction of the blue youngling's curious optics. He'd already accidentally blabbered once about the fact that Hot Shot was lingering on his processor recently; he didn't need his actual teammates to know he was focusing too much on the quadruple-changer. It'd be too... embarrassing. Yeah, that was it. Embarrassing.

"Oh... I know," the femme smiled, rotors fluttering behind her, "This is for Hot Shot isn't it? He has been kinda sad since we got our new mentors. I bet a bunch of gifts from all of us would really show that he's not alone and he'll always be part of our team!"

"W-wait- WHAT?!" Wedge choked, leaping to his pedes as Whirl spun away with his partially-filled basket. "Whirl, wait- Whirl, bring that back!"

"It's okay, Wedge," Whirl chirped, ignorant to the orange youngling's panic, "I've got some things that would be absolutely perfect for this gift! And after Hoist and Medix contribute, I'll be sure to bring it straight back to you!"

"I, uh, but..." The front-loader could only watch as the over-excited copter danced out of the student lounge, his gift idea held hostage in her servos, and felt his own spark dim miserably. "I wanted to make Hot Shot happy..."

Kicking the table, Wedge stalked to the exit, cursing the whole orn through. After this second fiasco, he might as well just cross cheering Hot Shot up right off his to-do list. He'd never win against Scorch.

**xxx**

"And here, some high-quality polish," Medix said, gently adding a couple tins to basket. "Oh, can't forget the specialty fibre waxing clothe. This is my favourite brand for shining those closest mementos! I'm certain that Hot Shot will find the caliber of this wax to be exquisite for his various Cube-"

"Yeah, I bet he'll really love it, Medix," Hoist interrupted, chuckling awkwardly, "He does boast about those medals and rewards for Cube a lot."

Whirl fixed the wax tins and clothe, laying them up against the other items in the basket neatly so they all were visible in one glance. "Hot Shot will love the wax, just as much as he's going to love your light-up, mini Cube mirror accessory, Hoist!," she encouraged. "My book of aerial manoeuvres seems sort of silly next to Cody's new video game."

"What? No!"

"A video game could never hope to stand up to a textbook of applicable information."

The copter giggled at her friends' protests, shifting the basket's contents around one last time before grabbing the plastic sheet. She paused though just before wrapping, a frown pulling at her lip components. "Has anyone else seen Wedge? I tried to look for him... I don't think he wanted just to put rust sticks in here but he's sorta disappeared," she mumbled.

"...Should we wait until we can find him then?," Hoist asked anxiously. "It wouldn't seem right to give Hot Shot the gifts if Wedge isn't finished contributing his part."

"But how long can we realistically keep this a surprise for Hot Shot?," Medix pointed out. "And if he had something more to add, wouldn't he have tracked us down himself by now?"

"Well..." Whirl hummed.

"Good afternoon, recruits!," an enthusiastic vocalizer called out, the ex-scout Bumblebee striding into the room. He waited a moment for the younglings to cry out his name with energetic flair, before drawing up to the trio and seeing what they were doing. "Oh, is that the gift basket for Hot Shot?"

"You knew about this mood-enhancer, Professor Bumblebee?," the white Autobot asked incredulously.

The ex-scout chuckled. "I did. Wedge was talking about it earlier. In fact," he added, pulling a datapad out of subspace, "He had a great gift idea in mind but couldn't quite pull it off on his own. So I decided to pop on over to Cybertron and help get it together."

He held it out to the recruits patiently, and after a few astroseconds Whirl took it from his servos, setting it in the basket with the other gifts.

"So, is that it then? Are we going to give it to Hot Shot now?," the tow-truck inquired.

"The current present would be the most appropriate time to hand it over," Medix commented, as Whirl quickly folded the plastic wrap around the basket; tying it off with a bright, red ribbon. "We are no longer lingering to see if anyone else has any further additions."

"I agree," Bumblebee added. "Hot Shot is just finishing his tidying of the roof tiles right now, so if you hurry, you can all catch him down by the entrance. Best of luck, recruits, and good on you all for looking out for one of your teammates."

"Thank you!," the trio chirped, smiling at the kind words. Cradling the finished basket to her chestplates, Whirl took the lead as they all raced for the Academy's front doors, excited to finally hand off their gift to its intended target.

**xxx**

Hot Shot practically threw the tools into the shed, aggravated beyond belief and just a little more than upset. So, maybe there was some benefit in the tasks that Heatwave scheduled him for each orn -he had learned some very handy skills thinking quickly on his pedes after all- but this still _sucked_. Every night his friends came back from their own sessions with their mentors, mouths running endlessly about the exciting new skills or adventures they participated in during the orn, or generally just how awesome it was to be in their favourite bot's presence. Hot Shot didn't have that. And in return, he was missing out on time with his friends also.

All in all, it made the red youngling feel very... forgotten.

Forcing the coolant down, Hot Shot shuttered his optics slowly, telling himself that the orn was finally over. He could refuel and spend a cycle or two with the other recruits before recharge. That would make him feel somewhat better. Locking the exterior shed, the quadruple-changer started the lonely trek through the Academy grounds back to the entrance. He didn't get very far before he heard his name being called over and over again; racing around the corner were his friends. Well, Hoist, Medix and Whirl. Wedge was nowhere to be seen. Hot Shot tried not let himself be saddened by that fact.

"Hey guys," he grinned amicably as they drew closer to each other, "What's going on?"

"We have a present to bestow upon you," Medix answered, ever the blunt one.

"Wait, wha-," the red youngling started.

"We know that this year is a little harder on you than us," Hoist continued at the other's confusion, "So we wanted to do something to show you that you're still valued here."

"It's a gift basket!," Whirl chirped. "We all took turns filling it with a little something for you, to help you feel better. Here, take it!"

Hot Shot grabbed the hamper as it was thrust at him suddenly, thankful that his athletic past kept him from fumbling it. His processor was still reeling at the fact that his friends had noticed his gloominess; even more so that they had decided to get him a bunch of treats to try and cheer him up. It was really nice.

"T... Thank you, guys," the quadruple-changer vented heavily, smiling despite the coolant rising to his optics again. One arm cradled the basket while the other worked to pull the ribbon and plastic wrap off. "I see Cubes, wax, some treats... This is really thoughtful."

He noticed the simple datapad behind a box of rust sticks, pulling it out and struggling to turn it on with one servo. "What is this?"

"We don't actually know," Whirl admitted.

"Yeah, it was from Wedge," Hoist added.

"In fact, the whole basket idea was proposed by Wedge himself," Medix mentioned.

The other younglings missed the shock that flashed across Hot Shot's face. "Wedge did-" Hot Shot was cut off before he could finish his sentence, the datapad flaring to life and voices swelling from the screen. A bunch of older 'bots were shown sitting in an empty sports field, chattering amongst themselves merrily until they noticed the camera mech.

"Hey, Hot Shot," they all greeted as one, chortling again, "We're the Iacon Wreckers and we hear that you're a talented Cube player trying out for rescue work instead."

"Good on you, young spark," said one mech.

"Cybertron would be nowhere without its daily heroes," a second agreed. "It's amazing that you could turn down the chance to go professional for a truer calling."

"But hey, we're your friends here and we just want you to know that choosing a different career path doesn't mean you gotta give up your love for the game," a third pro-star continued. He caught a Cube as it was thrown from off-screen, spinning it on an index finger. "So we hope you've got the next couple cycles free 'cause we're gonna show you, step-by-step, how we pull off some of our favourite plays."

As the video progressed to the famous Cube team rallying for a mock game, Hot Shot turned the datapad off, staring at its blackened face slack-jawed. Hoist was trembling in his very plating beside the red youngling; Whirl and Medix equally as awed on the other side.

"Oh sweet Primus, oh sweet Primus," the tow-truck cycled quickly, almost ready to gnaw on his fingers. "Those were _THE_ Iacon Wreckers! I-i can't believe Wedge got them to make a video for you!"

"And look!," Whirl piped up, a finger pointing at the back of the datapad, "I think that's their signatures cut into the back here!"

Flipping it over quickly, Hot Shot felt his engine stall. It definitely was the team's names hand-lasered into the metal of the datapad. "W...Where is Wedge?," he eventually croaked out, looking at each of his friends.

"Well, we're not really sure...," Hoist confessed, earlier excitement tapering down. "We had hoped he'd come along so we could give the basket together."

"We did try to look around the Academy," the copter said, shoulders shrugging to note that course of action had been fruitless.

"Perhaps if we check the chore list, that might give us some sort of starting ground," Medix suggested. "After all, he couldn't have gone far from the Academy."

"I-i'll look," Hot Shot jumped in, shoving the datapad into the hamper with the rest of the presents and pushing it into Hoist's arms entirely. "Here! You guys can take that back to the student lounge for me, right? I promise I won't be long!"

They barely had a chance to agree, before the quadruple-changer was running off to start his search for their missing friend.

**xxx**

His internal chronometer chirped, informing the recruit sitting in the trash compactor room that he should be heading back to his quarters for curfew, yet Wedge couldn't bring himself to care. He felt -what? Angry? Sad? Frustrated? He was definitely something, but he was having a hard time drawing a conclusion. All the orange youngling felt was a consistent cold in his energon lines, making him sluggish and weak in the joints. He'd worked so hard to find a way to try and cheer up Hot Shot, and then everyone had to take that away from him.

It made him a tad bitter.

Now the red youngling would get the other recruits' gifts and think that the front-loader was a huge jerk in comparison for not getting him anything. Groaning lowly, Wedge banged his helm on the safety rail of the platform he squatted on; slowly onlining his optics again and staring down at all the garbage that waited to be flattened before pickup. Maybe he should just toss himself in along with the other refuse. It seemed to be the best place for him anyhow.

"I'm so fragging stupid..."

"Well, yeah, but why are you calling yourself that now?"

Wedge spun around on the platform as the door closed on his new companion, grabbing the rail tightly before he fell. "H-hot Shot?!," he cried out, straightening himself up in a panic. "W-wha- How d-did you-?"

"Find you?" The red youngling chuckled, walking over to the front-loader. He came to a stop beside the other recruit, servos on the safety rail as he looked over the compactor room. "Well, seeing as how you like garbage so much and no one could find you anywhere else in the Academy, I thought I might check here. It's nice and quiet, and far away from everyone else too. Perfect for when you want to be alone."

"I do _not_ like garbage...," Wedge grumbled, his shock slowly fading. He joined Hot Shot in his looking, venting softly as he set his servos on the rail nervously. "Listen, I-"

"The others gave me a gift basket," Hot Shot interjected before he could continue though. Shuttering his optics, the orange youngling turned his helm to find the shorter Autobot looking up at him with a smile. "They told me it was your idea. And that you even got some personal footage from the Iacon Wreckers for _me_ , that's..."

The quadruple-changer paused, frame visibly shaking. It was an experience that Wedge felt replicated in his own spark. He was flabbergasted that everyone would tell Hot Shot that the basket was his idea -even though it was- and even more stunned that his idea, to get a one-on-one interview with some professional Cube players, had actually been accomplished and presented to the red Autobot as the construction recruit's own gift.

"I- Thank you, Wedge," the smaller youngling beamed, his smile cutting into the front-loader's plating and piercing his spark with unknown emotion, "It means a lot to me that you did this to cheer me up. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

He liked it! Hot Shot had really-

Wedge's ecstatic thoughts stalled to a stop as warm arms wrapped around his torso; Hot Shot's frame pressing close as the quadruple-changer tightened his hold on the taller recruit. The orange youngling's spark whirled wildly as he looked down on his friend, servos trembling as he debated on whether to touch the other Autobot or not. But the longer Hot Shot remained in his embrace, the harder it was to rationalize against it, and finally Wedge gave in to his frame's silent craving; crushing the red youngling momentarily in his own hug.

"C'mon," Hot Shot chuckled, his face lifting to better see his companion. "We should head to our quarters before we get extra chores for being out after curfew."

"U-um, yeah," Wedge laughed awkwardly in return, pulling his optics away from their entranced study of the quadruple-changer's lip components. He allowed Hot Shot to take lead as they exited out of the compactor room, the red youngling already running his mouth about the gift basket and all its contents as they walked down the hall. The front-loader was content to listen though, glad that he had been able to improve his friend's mood.

A happy Hot Shot made him happy too.

**C.M.D: Apparently Wedge is a skid-loader...? But given that I had to research and guestimate what his vehicle form was, by comparing show artwork and real-life construction machines, I'm going to continue calling him a front-loader. Hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
